In A Week
by emerald-123
Summary: Lying low at Lupin's wasn't what Sirius expected.


**Title:** In A Week  
**Author:** emerald123  
**Summary:** Lying low at Lupin's wasn't what Sirius expected. One-shot.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own any of the characters. I simply play with them. I don't make any money, so please don't sue.  
**Author Notes:** Written for leetha for the R/S Ficathon.  


"_Lie low at Lupin's for a while, I will contact you there."_

Dumbledore's words rang in Sirius's ears as he made his way to the outskirts of a small village, where Remus had a small cabin. There weren't many people in the area; Sirius, as Padfoot, hadn't bumped into more than two people on his way to Remus's home.

The cabin came into view as the sun set in the distance. Looking over his shoulder, Sirius made sure there wasn't anyone behind him before shifting back. He stumbled slightly at the feeling of being on two legs, grabbing a tree branch to gain his balance back.

Remus's home was small, but Sirius was sure it was all he could afford. It looked to be two—perhaps three?—rooms, built with carefully placed logs. Sirius could feel the humming of wards as he walked through the knee-length grass, swatting a bug off his sweat-soaked shoulder.

Sirius approached the door as quietly as he could, holding onto the frame to keep steady. He'd been running as Padfoot for days, and the most he'd eaten were a few rats. He had pretended they were Peter, which helped with the taste.

He raised a hand and knocked against the door with his knuckles. His hands were shaking, Sirius realised, tightening his grip on the frame.

There were footsteps from inside the house, hurried footsteps. Was Remus eager to see him? _I hope so_.

The door was flung open. Remus stood on the other side. He wore a threadbare robe over his worn trousers and thin, greying shirt. His face was tight—was he scared? Anxious? Concerned? Sirius could see his fingers tightening on the doorknob.

They stared for what seemed like bloody _days_. Remus opened his mouth, as though to say something, then closed it just as quickly. His eyes flickered from Sirius's eyes down his body. He was probably noticing the prominent ribs, the muddy robes, the sunken eyes, Sirius mused.

"Sirius," said Remus finally. He took a step forward awkwardly, then, biting his lip, moved back. His hand was still gripping the doorknob tightly. "C-Come inside."

Sirius did so, pulling his robe closer to his body. Remus pushed the door closed behind him.

Again, there was an uncomfortable silence as they watched each other. Sirius took the time to gaze around the room, which was both a sitting room and a kitchen. There was an old couch shoved into the corner, a tattered blanket thrown across it. A table, with two chairs. A pantry. A sink. There was a door, a closed door, that Sirius assumed led to Remus's room.

Remus cleared his throat.

"Do you—do you want tea, Pad—Sirius? Coffee?"

"You know I don't like coffee," said Sirius hoarsely. He coughed, pounding his chest with a closed fist. It had been awhile since he'd last used his voice. How long? Well, he'd spoken with Dumbledore and Harry at Hogwarts—_Harry_.

"Sirius?" Remus was looking at him intently. "Are you feeling all right? Do you need to sit down?"

"You might want to," Sirius replied darkly. He hit his chest again, trying to get some power into his voice. "It's about Harry."

Remus took a seat on the couch, his weight sinking into the cushions. Sirius chose a seat at the table, folding his hands across the chipped wood.

"You know he was in the Triwizard Tournament, right?" Sirius began, looking down at his hands. He saw Remus nod. "Well…For the third task, he had to be in a maze, and…"

Taking a deep breath, Sirius told Remus everything: the maze, the impostor Mad-Eye, the death of Cedric, and how Voldemort had returned. Remus grew steadily pale, his fingers twisting the blanket into knots.

When Sirius was finished, Remus had his head in his hands and was massaging his scalp.

"What does Dumbledore want us to do?" Remus mumbled from behind his arms.

"I'm supposed to get the old crowd together. You, Figg, and Mundungus were mentioned by Dumbledore," Sirius explained, his voice still rough. He wanted to cough, but his throat hurt far too much.

"When?"

Sirius shrugged. "I was hoping Dumbledore had already spoken with you, Moony."

"Please don't call me that." Remus's voice was tense, almost forced past his teeth. Sirius flinched.

"Okay."

Remus lifted his head from his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing them with a sigh. "Voldemort's back."

"Yes."

"_Fuck_."

Sirius had to smile at that. Remus saw it and scowled. 

"What are you grinning about? _Voldemort is back_. Do you know what this means, Sirius? And you said Fudge didn't believe Harry. The next year is going to be painful for all of us, I can sense it."

"It's just…well, you never really cursed that much at—at Hogwarts. It's odd to hear you swear."

"I changed after Hogwarts," said Remus quietly. He stood, glancing out the window. "It's getting late. You may have the couch."

Sirius opened his mouth in silent protest—they'd slept in the same dormitory for seven years, couldn't they share a bed? Remus strode past him to the bedroom without another word, and Sirius closed his jaw.

Sighing, Sirius walked over to the couch. He curled up into the cushions, tucking the blanket around his body.

He fell asleep instantly, drifting away to dark rooms and high-pitched screams.

Sirius awoke to the smell of coffee. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he pushed the blanket off to the floor, swinging his legs over the side of the sofa.

"Morning," he said quietly, walking into the kitchen. Remus, pouring himself a mug of coffee, nodded.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Remus asked, sipping his coffee. "I can make you something, if you'd like."

Sirius snorted. "From what I remember, you can't cook."

It was true. They had lived in a flat together after Hogwarts, and Remus's cooking was legendary—for making Sirius ill. They had spent a lot of their money on cheap restaurants and pizza because Sirius couldn't cook, either.

Remus wasn't looking at him, but instead chose to stare at his coffee. Sirius stood behind him awkwardly, biting his lip. Fuck. What had he done? Remus was acting oddly. Sure, it was bizarre to have your best friend escape from prison and discover that someone who was supposed to be dead was actually alive. But couldn't Remus be a little more open? He was guarding everything, and Sirius didn't know why.

"No, I can't," said Remus softly. He finally turned around, gesturing to a cupboard aimlessly. "There's some bread in there. Eat it all. You're far too thin, Sirius."

"Thank you, mother."

Sirius could feel Remus's eyes on the back of his head as he reached up to get the loaf of bread.

"When's the next full moon?"

"Two nights."

"Do you want me to stay with you? As Padfoot?"

"No. I'll stay in my room, and you stay out here. I'm not taking any chances."

"Remus, I can be Padfoot, it worked before, and you've got your potion—"

"_No_."

Two days later, Sirius was lounging on the sofa and watching the night sky. Remus had told him to not enter the bedroom, but he hadn't forbidden Sirius to wait for the moon to rise.

Sighing, Sirius rubbed his closed eyes with a thumb and forefinger. They had spent the last two days contacting every old Order member, informing them of what had happened, and telling them not to believe anything the Ministry was saying. Well, Remus had done the actual contacting—Sirius had just written down names of who believed him and who didn't—because Sirius didn't want to be sent back to Azkaban.

But with the way Remus was acting, Remus probably wouldn't mind seeing Sirius off to Azkaban. He was acting so _strange_. And Sirius didn't understand why.

Remus wasn't letting Sirius sleep in his own bedroom, even though they'd shared a dormitory for seven years and a flat two years after that. He didn't allow Sirius to bathe with him in the small brook that flowed behind the house. Remus had never been this _prudish_. Remus had never been a prude.

_He barely even looks at me unless he has to_.

Sirius hated it, but it was true.

There was a wail that quickly turned into a howl from Remus's bedroom. Sirius snapped his head in the direction of the sound, his chest twisting painfully. Remus was hurting, that much was evident. Another howl—this sounded almost panicked.

Trying to ignore the clicking of nails on the floorboards, Sirius pulled the blanket tighter around him and tried to sleep.

Sirius crept to Remus's bedroom, his feet nearly silent on the cold floor. It was already past noon, and since Remus hadn't awoken to drink his obligatory cup of coffee, Sirius had grown worried.

Pushing open the door, Sirius slipped inside. A naked Remus lay on the floor, holding his knees to his chest protectively. His body was crisscrossed with white scars, and his eyes were shut.

He looked utterly exhausted.

Sirius knelt by his friend, skimming a thumb over Remus's forehead.

"Hey," he said quietly. "You need to get off the floor."

Remus groaned, one eyelid fluttering open. When he saw Sirius, he choked.

"Sirius? What are you doing in here?" Remus demanded, his voice hoarse. "I told you, I don't need your help with this, I've been taking care of myself."

"But I'm here, so you don't need to," said Sirius softly, still gliding his thumb across Remus's forehead. "Let's get you onto the bed, okay?"

"I can stand up myself," Remus grumbled, letting go of his knees to push himself off the floor. He promptly fell back down, groaning.

"Maybe not, Moony," said Sirius, chuckling. He stood, bending at the waist to pick up Remus. At the touch of Sirius's hand on his skin, Remus flinched. Sirius tried to ignore it.

With a grunt, Sirius managed to heave Remus over to the bed. He pulled the duvet over his friend's fatigued form with a final brush of Remus's forehead.

"Go to sleep, Moony."

Remus mumbled something unintelligible and turned over onto his side, half-hugging his pillow. Sirius sat beside him and watched the tired man sleep.

Sirius awoke to the sound of a faint groan. He twisted over to face Remus, wincing as his bones cracked. His friend was clutching the sheet between white knuckles, groaning and kicking his feet.

"Moony," Sirius whispered, touching his cheek. Remus sat bolt upright, his chest heaving. He turned to look at Sirius with wide eyes.

"What are you doing in my bed?" Remus hissed, his hands still tight on the sheet.

"Sleeping?" Sirius offered. "Or, at least, I was—"

"GET OUT, GET OUT!" Remus roared, pushing a hand into Sirius's chest. Sirius fell backwards over the side of the bed, the duvet twisted in his legs. He kicked it off, backing out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

Once in the safety of the living room, Sirius curled up on the sofa with a blanket, shivering. He'd _never_ seen Remus that angry, not even after the prank on Snape in sixth year. When Remus was angry, he was normally quiet and reserved, keeping his hurt on the inside until it slowly died away. Why was Remus acting so oddly?

Sirius nuzzled his head into the arm of the sofa, trying to fall asleep.

"_BLOOD TRAITOR!" Mrs. Black hollered, backhanding him across the face. He stumbled backwards, catching himself on the wooden table._

"_I'm leaving!" he shouted, grabbing the doorknob. It stung his hands horribly, but he yanked it open nonetheless. "The Potters will give me a place to stay!"_

"_MUDBLOOD-LOVERS!" Mrs. Black declared. "NO USE TO THE WIZARDING WORLD!"_

"_Just like you, you over-powering, useless witch!" he retorted, slamming the door behind him._

"_YOU DO NOT BELONG IN THIS HOUSE! GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!_"

He woke up crying.

Sirius knocked on the door to Remus's bedroom the next day. There was a pause, then a muffled, "Come in."

He did so, shutting the door behind him. Remus was still curled up in bed, buried under the duvet. Sirius leaned against the door, taking a deep breath before beginning the speech he had just practised.

"I'm going to leave. You don't seem to want me to be here, and I don't feel safe or happy here with the way you're acting. I can stay at Hogwarts, or maybe in Hogsmeade. Maybe someplace near Harry. Either way, I think I'm going to leave."

Remus raised his head off the pillow blearily. "You're _leaving_? Pad—Sirius, it's not safe for you to be in the outside world, everyone and their brother is looking for you—"

"I'd rather be outside than stay here," said Sirius flatly. "You're almost as bad as the dementors."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Sirius insisted. "You don't make conversation, you make me feel like shit, and you make me have bad dreams."

Remus rubbed his eyes with a closed fist. "I'm sorry. You and I—I'm just—it's odd having you here."

"Why? Isn't it nice to have your best friend back?"

Remus squeezed his eyes shut, gently banging his head against the pillow. "It's more complicated than that, Sirius. It _is_ nice, but it's _different_ and it's _weird_ and it's—"

"A lot to deal with," Sirius finished. He pushed himself off the wall, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. Remus nodded.

"Yes. It's a _lot_ to deal with, especially for me."

"What about me?" Sirius demanded, pointing at his chest. "What about_ me_? I spent more than a _decade_ in Azkaban with the knowledge that our best friend had deceived us, and that he was responsible for the death of Lily and James! I had to live with _dementors_, and they've taken every goddamn good memory, and I can't remember a _fucking_ thing!"

"I didn't think you would," said Remus softly. "I doubted you'd remember everything."

Sirius let out a growl of frustration, grabbing his hair. "What is it that I don't remember?"

Remus shoved himself off the mattress, placed his hands on either side of Sirius's torso, and firmly attached his lips to the other man's mouth. Sirius froze in a mixture of fear and surprise, his eyes wide. It was warm and comforting_…Why is this so familiar?_

Remus removed himself from Sirius, turning over so his back was to him. "_That's._ what you don't remember."

"I'm _gay_?"

"From what I recall, yes, you were." Remus's voice was quiet and tense. "You certainly were."

Sirius opened his mouth, then, realising he didn't have much to say, closed it. A long, awkward silence followed.

"Maybe you should leave," Remus mumbled into his pillow. "Take Buckbeak and go someplace warm, wait for Dumbledore's instructions. You need a holiday."

"I'll get Buckbeak back from Dumbledore, then," said Sirius hoarsely, surprised he had found his voice. He was _gay_? "Do you—"

"Just leave, Sirius." Remus's voice was wretchedly mournful, and Sirius winced. "I—I shouldn't have done that, I really shouldn't have—"

"It certainly was a culture shock."

"You could say that, yes." Remus looked over his shoulder at him. His cheeks were flushed. "It's all right if you don't want to—"

"Have sex with you?" Sirius suggested. Remus's cheeks flushed darker.

"No! I meant—it's all right if you don't want to _talk_ with me, or ever see me after…after what you've just learned. I mean, if you do, just say so."

Sirius glanced at the bed sheets. "I would like to do that—"

Remus's face fell.

"—but only for a short period of time," Sirius finished. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. "But I want to know…er…this…" He waved his hand half-heartedly between himself and Remus. "When did it start?"

"Seventh year." Remus's face was back in the pillows. "Christmas. James and Peter were at their parents' homes, and since mine were _dead_ and yours didn't want you back, we stayed at Hogwarts."

"Oh."

"You didn't like it at first. You thought—you thought it was wrong, having feelings for a bloke."

"We all did, then," said Sirius softly. Remus nodded into the pillow.

"Yes. But you let me kiss you."

At Remus's words, something leaked through the remains of Sirius's memory—

_Soft, warm lips against his own, hesitant fingertips on his arm_—

Sirius shook his head violently at the sudden inflow of sight and sound. As soon as he had moved, the image disappeared. "What did Peter and James think?"

Remus snorted. "James pummelled you to the ground and broke your nose."

_Knuckles slamming into his face, a cry of pain, blood dripping onto his lips_—

"But Peter stopped the fight," Remus continued, "and made James sleep in the common room for a week until he apologised to us."

_Dark hair bowing down to the ground, a mumbled apology forced out through gritted teeth_—

"No one else at school knew, though I think Dumbledore did."

_Blue eyes following him and Remus as they left breakfast early, a light chuckle at the innuendo hidden underneath discussion of Charms homework in the corridor_—

"Do you want to know anything else?"

"No." The words slipped past Sirius's lips before he could grasp them. He saw Remus's back tense, and he swore inwardly. "I'm going to contact Dumbledore through the Floo, and see where the safest place to be is."

"Someplace warm," Remus repeated.

Sirius left the bedroom. It was only when he picked up the Floo Powder that he realised his hand were shaking. He tossed it into the fire, announcing, "Dumbledore's office," and waited for the flames to turn green.

After a moment, Dumbledore's head poked through the flames. "Yes, Sirius?"

"I need to leave. As soon as possible."

"Oh." Dumbledore's face turned grave. "I see. Well…I can put you in the same place I did last year…"

Sirius nodded. "That's fine. Unless you need me to help you with Grimmauld Place?"

"No. I will do that myself." Dumbledore glanced over his shoulder. "Be prepared to leave tomorrow."

Sirius folded up Harry's letter, tucking it into the envelope he had received it in. He glanced at Buckbeak, who was snoozing against the bungalow Dumbledore had rented for them.

"Harry's not doing so well at Privet Drive," Sirius told the hippogriff. "I want to go to see him, but I _can't_. Dumbledore's told me to stay down here while he gets Grimmauld Place ready for the Order…"

Buckbeak had gone back to sleep, and was therefore incapable to answer. Sirius sighed. "I'm talking to a sleeping hippogriff, asking for advice…I really _am_ loony, aren't I?"

He looked at his lap, where a parchment resided. It was blank, except for the words _Dear Remus_ written at the top. They had been there for the past hour, which Sirius had spent trying to find a way to write a letter to his friend. Lover? _Fuck_.

Picking up his—what did the Muggles call them? Pens?—from the sand, Sirius began to write.

_Dear Remus,_

_I'm sorry you haven't heard much from me. I had to set up an alias and figure out a way to smuggle Buckbeak in here without any of the Muggles noticing. Dumbledore got me a wand, which helped, but I still get wary when the children stare at the exact area where a Concealing Charm has been cast to hide Buckbeak. Muggle children, after all, can easily spot magic._

_Nothing very interesting has happened. I've mostly been sitting in the sand, watching the Muggles, and awaiting letters from Harry._

_It's probably taken me so long to write this damn letter because I'm trying to figure out a way to talk about what happened in the past without embarrassing the both of us. It's a little bit of a shock to realise that my best friend was also my lover—not to mention that I'm gay. Gay. It's still weird to think about… I did find myself looking at a Muggle man in the water the other day, so perhaps…? Oh, I don't know._

_When I get back to England, I want us to talk. I don't know what we'll talk about, but I do want to talk. Do reply, Moony._

_Sirius_

He stuffed the letter into an open envelope, licking the seal shut.

_Sirius,_

_I got your letter today, and since you sounded so urgent, I'm taking a Portkey to visit you as soon as possible. We can talk._

_Remus_

Sirius frowned, re-reading the letter. Remus was coming to visit? Here? But he was supposed to be in hiding! It wasn't exactly stealthy to have one's friends arrive at one's hiding place—

There was a distinct _pop!_ behind him. Sirius turned around to see Remus Lupin, standing in threadbare trousers and a tattered overcoat. He raised one hand in greeting, and Sirius returned the wave.

"Er, hi. Wasn't expecting you so soon."

Remus shrugged. "Dumbledore told me that I should."

"Did he read the letter?" Sirius blurted out. Remus smiled, shaking his head.

"No. You can keep your dignity, Sirius."

Sirius returned the smile, though it was unenthusiastic. He stood, brushing the sand off his legs. "Do you want a cup of tea? Or something colder?"

"Tea's fine."

They walked into the bungalow, Remus trailing behind Sirius. The latter headed for the "kitchen" section of the tiny home, taking two cups out of the cupboard.

"How is the work with Grimmauld Place going?" Sirius asked, sipping his tea as they both took a seat at the small table. It burned his tongue.

Remus shrugged. "Dumbledore's doing the wards by himself. No one is allowed to enter the home—nor are you allowed to return—until _all_ the wards are set up."

"He's being extra careful, I notice."

"He doesn't want another traitor." Sirius winced at the venom that left Remus's mouth, but his friend didn't notice and continued to drink his own tea. "What is it you wish to discuss?"

Sirius set his cup back in its saucer. "I…I'm not exactly sure, but…_Fuck_, this is _embarrassing_…"

"Trust me, Sirius, I know." Remus finished his tea, pushing both cup and saucer towards the edge of the table. His hands lay flat on the table, and Sirius had the unexpected urge to grasp them in his own. "Just say what you wish to."

"But it's too difficult to put into words," Sirius retorted, hoping he didn't sound too whiny. "I…" An idea zoomed into his head, but it was so _absurd_ and he didn't know if he would be able to do _that_… "Fuck!" He stood and began to pace.

"Just say it," Remus repeated. His cheeks were flushed again. "I don't really care what you're going to say—no, that's a lie, I _do_ care. But whatever it is…Just say it, will you?"

Sirius stopped pacing, gripping the top of the chair with white knuckles. "I want to—I want to _try_ doing…'us' again."

The expression on Remus's face was worth the embarrassment. His jaw slid open, his eyes enlarged, and his reply was a choked, "_What_?"

"Well, you said we'd been lovers, and since it started in our seventh year and _seemed_ to continue on past that, it had to have been something very important since we stayed together, right? You never said anything about one of us breaking it off. And from what you've said, it feels like the relationship was valuable to both of us, and with Voldemort returning—"

"You want at least one good shag before you die?"

"No! No, that's not it, Moony!"

"Then why do you want a relationship again? You don't seem like you even _want_ to be gay. Besides, you were never the 'settling down' type of man. And how would you know if you'd like it—_us_?"

"Dementors take away all your good memories," said Sirius quietly. "I don't remember a single one of the two of us together."

Remus stared at him for a moment, and then dropped his head into his hands with a groan. "Sirius…"

"_Sirius…Oh, sweet Merlin, don't—don't stop—"_

"I want to try," said Sirius firmly.

"But I don't," came the reply.

Sirius's chest twisted painfully. "Why not?"

"Just—no."

Sirius closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. "_Why_?"

Remus lifted his head from his hands. "Because if you decide you don't like it, then it will _ruin_ our friendship, and it will be bad for Harry."

"Don't play the Harry card," Sirius snapped, opening his eyes. He strode over to Remus, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Do you understand what I'm saying? I _want_ to try this!"

"'Try' being the key word here," said Remus dryly. He took Sirius's wrists and squeezed, forcing them off his shoulders.

"But—"

"No buts, Sirius. _None_."

"Then why the _hell_ did you agree to come here?" Sirius demanded. "If you didn't want to—"

Remus was shaking his head. "Not now, Sirius."

"Don't act like you're my mother!"

"Then stop acting like a child," Remus retorted.

Sirius let out a groan of frustration, twisting his hands into fists. "Fine. If you don't want to try doing it again—by the way, I can't remember a damn thing of what we supposedly had, so consider yourself fucking lucky—then would you at least give me a chance to change your mind!"

Remus paused. "Fine. In a week, you'll be returning to Grimmauld Place. You can convince me then, because I'll be staying with you."

"Er—okay."

Remus stood. He froze for a moment, holding the back of his chair as though he were thinking. He bit his lip before dropping a kiss on Sirius's cheek.

"See you in a week," Remus said before Apparating away.

Reviews are appreciated. 


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